The Corner
by Fat Puppy
Summary: Pre-TPM. Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi. When Obi-Wan is trapped in a strange hospital room, his only way out is to reach the room's corner.


**The Corner**

_**Summary**__**: Pre-TPM. Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi. When Obi-Wan is trapped in a strange hospital room, his only way out is to reach the room's corner.**_

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When Obi-Wan woke up, his hospital room was dark, and smelled bad. Sight and smell triggered two immediate questions. Why was he in a hospital room and where exactly was he?

Last memories were of a successful mission completed. He'd been given the lead and negotiated a food and agriculture agreement between three tribes. He remembered Qui-Gon setting a hand on his shoulder and letting him know he'd done well. He remembered their walk to the cargo ship that was to be their ride home. He even remembered boarding the ship.

It was blank and black after that.

The barest of lights allowed Obi-Wan to see the room around him; to at least recognize it as a hospital room. There were instruments and tubes and wires and other. That smell though. It was eye-watering. A combination of some type of gas and rotting meat and it was emanating from the far corner of the room.

Obi-Wan lifted his legs from the small bed, his bare knees covered by the strange, thin gown he was wearing. Shoeless, his toes were startled by the coldness of the floor, but he moved toward that smelly corner. The odor became stronger. Obi-Wan staggered to the side, managing to catch himself before falling flat on his face. Lightheaded from whatever, he forged on. The corner of the room, so close a moment ago, had seemingly moved a great distance away. He wiped at his burning eyes and continued toward the smell.

Voices near or in his head - he couldn't be certain - were growing. Voices... or was it one voice? Was it familiar? And why was he here again? And what was that horrible smell?

Refocused, the boy staggered forward once more, balance lost, but not completely. The floor, ice cold now. The corner of the room even further away.

He swallowed hard more times in a row than seemed possible. Nothing cleared the strange lump feeling in his throat. Mouth was dry and he was thirsty. Cold too. The room was colder now, right? Staring down, Obi-Wan swore some of his toes were missing. It's why he kept losing his balance. It's what made sense.

Voices again. Outside. In his head. Somewhere. Strange sounds too. Fighting? Shooting? Arguing? Some of all of those things were present as he stumbled badly, knees planting solid against the frozen floor. The floor that was ice now. Solid ice. No wonder his toes were missing. Frozen off. Maybe his feet would be next but _what was that smell_?

Back on his feet, the corner moved again. Obi-Wan followed the smell across the room. That was the key to all of this. Get to the corner, find the smell, and everything would make sense. It had to be the way. It had to be the answer.

His head hurt. Eyes stung. There was little feeling below the knees - another downward glance told him why - his toes weren't the only thing missing. Both feet were gone too. But how could he still walk and move forward toward the corner? Toward that terrible smell?

Another stagger. Another fall. Another determined effort to keep moving. Voices were closer. A humming sound. More shooting. Slashing. Eyes burned hard now. Obi-Wan fought against the redness in them and made no effort to wipe the water streaming downwards. That smell in the corner... he had to get there.

The wall moved. Banging. Someone was trying to get in. To stop him from getting to the corner; to that stench that was the answer to all of this. Another voice - or the same one, he couldn't be sure of anything. A hand reached up - his own - to pull at his hair. It was long - or longer - than it should've been, wasn't it? His hair was short, had to be short. But now it was long and wet, why was it wet? A hand to his chest. Waist. Dampness on the gown. Everywhere. The gown reeked as badly as the corner did, didn't it? Was _he_ the smell? No. No, the stink was in the corner over there where he couldn't quite make it because the corner kept moving and the voices kept coming closer and they were trying to break in to his hospital room to stop him from... Getting. To. That. Corner.

Walls moved again. Something opened. A door? Something came through. Something that wanted to stop him from finding the smell, the corner. Something... someone... a voice. That voice. Deep. Kind. Familiar. Maybe the voice was here to help him get to the corner.

Eyes burned and watered. Head pounded. Toes and feet missing. Gown drenched in various smells and liquids. Staggering and falling again. Obi-Wan pushed forth one last effort to move forward to the smell in the corner. The answer... the answer that could make all these bad feelings go away. If only...

"Obi-Wan."

He fell forward, hard onto the icy floor. Knees first. Pain. Blood. Something caught him. The voice did. It said his name.

"No...". Obi-Wan's desperate plea for whatever it was to let him be, to let him get to the corner. It was the only way to end this.

The boy flailed an arm in a feeble escape attempt, but all energy was sapped. His final attempt to stand left him sprawled horizontal on the floor of ice, staring pleadingly at the corner just beyond his reach. If only...

But no. Arms wrapped around him and lifted his shoulders from the ice to lay against something softer and warmer.

"Obi-Wan."

It said his name again.

"It's all right, Padawan. I have you, but we need to leave this place now. I will carry you, so don't struggle."

Don't struggle. Needed to leave. Maybe the arms would carry him to the corner. To the smell. So he could find the answer... but no, the arms did no such thing. They lifted him, he screamed in pain, and they took him further away from the corner. Obi-Wan tried to protest, squirming in the arms, but his efforts were weak and useless and his feet and toes were missing, and his eyes burned, head hurt, everything was wrong and happening and he was being taken away from the one thing - the only thing - that could save him.

His world entered slow motion as the arms steadied his protest and moved steadily away. One final reach of the hand... for the corner... the answer... and it was all gone. Then it all went black.

—-

"You look horrible, Padawan."

"I feel horrible, Master."

"Do you remember much?"

"Only what I told you before."

The boy lay in another hospital bed. This one comfortable and known and was neither dark nor smelly. Coruscant. Jedi Temple. Home. Everything hurt and would for a time, so the healers had told him. The poison gas slowly being pressed from his system. He'd been gone a month and two days. The details he couldn't remember exactly, his mind still somewhat foggy, but he'd been poisoned and taken in his sleep while on the cargo ship home from the previous mission. Taken for the purpose of some type of mad-man experiment as Qui-Gon called it.

"My mind kept needing to get to the corner of the room. I knew it was where I needed to be, how I would figure it all out. The icy floor. My eyes burning and toes missing. It was terrifying, but I had to get to that corner and I never could."

"That's where the gas was entering the room. It's why you associated the corner with the smell. Technically you were correct, the answer was in that corner, but had you actually made it the there, it would have killed you. Your captors made certain the area was large enough that you'd never get there and the gas made your brain think the corner was only steps away when in fact It was quite a distance."

Obi-Wan's eyes closed and he leaned his aching head to the side, soaking in the softness of the pillow.

"The odor was a combination of two things. The gas and yourself. Your captors left you to your own bodily fluids, it's why your gown was wet. After I got you from the room, you repeated that over and over. That your clothes were all wet. I think that was your Jedi training kicking in. Needing to be neat and clean; presentable. I cleaned you up the best I could on the flight home. Terran had a team ready for you here when we arrived."

Unable to stop the feeling, Obi-Wan's face flushed at Qui-Gon's recalling the events... his own bodily fluids...

Jinn picked up on the thoughts and shamed emotions.

"It's all right, Padawan. Only the healers and I know the full story. Don't fret on the details. You were poisoned and your mind compromised. There was nothing you could have done to stop any of this. You survived, you're home safe with me and you will make a full recovery. That's what matters. The details of the story will remain private. All right?"

A slight nod as Obi-Wan caught the concerned eyes of his master. The man's presence alone made him feel better about everything. He didn't recall being alone in that place, he didn't recall anything except cold and pain and stench and needing to reach that corner.

But if Qui-Gon hadn't come...

"Master. Thank you for finding me and saving me. For bringing me home. I was so lost and confused. Scared. To be held for so long... " A hand reached up and Obi-Wan felt his still-longer hair. Qui-Gon caught the nervous motion.

"It's a reminder, I know, Obi-Wan. But you can get it cut soon enough once you are upright and feeling yourself."

With heavy eyes, Obi-Wan listened as he watched Qui-Gon carefully; the man moved a step closer to the bed.

"I should go to allow you sleep." He said softly.

Go? No, Obi-Wan thought, a rise of panic threatening. Qui-Gon leaving him. That was the last thing he wanted. To be alone in another hospital room. Not right now. Not after this nightmare.

"Master, no... I don't mind the company. Maybe while I sleep, you can meditate and be here in the room. This room. With me. There's a chair there and I'm sure that Terran can find a more comfortable one if you need it, and even if..."

Babbling. The boy was babbling. A habit that only surfaced during times he was terrified but trying desperately to hide those feelings. A rare occasion, but one that Qui-Gon understood.

With an easy lift, he moved the chair closer to the bed. Close enough for him to set a hand on that of his student. A simple action that relayed calming waves to and through the boy. Visibly, Obi-Wan relaxed and the barest hint of a smile ghosted his lips for long seconds.

"You sleep. I will meditate." Qui-Gon said.

"Maybe the Force can help me too."

"Indeed it can. Close your eyes, Padawan."

Exhaustion paired with doing as Qui-Gon asked and Obi-Wan fell into an easy breathing rhythm with the older Jedi's help. Obi-Wan wasn't quite ready to find his own center within the Force - his body and mind still too overwhelmed - but with the assistance of the one he trusted most, it wasn't long before he found peace.

This time when the world went black, the feeling was guiding and gentle. Memories of burning and pain and fear and corners and horrible smells... faded into nothing. And he slept.

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END


End file.
